30 November 2013

Sophie Bloom’s junior year has been a bit of a train wreck. After the world’s greatest kiss re-awakened Sophie’s true identity as Persephone (Goddess of Spring and Savior of Humanity), she fought her dragon-lady guidance counselor to the death, navigated mean girl Bethany’s bitchy troublemaking, and dealt with the betrayal of her backstabbing ex, Kai (sexy Prince of Darkness). You’d think a girl could catch a break.

Yeah, right.

With Zeus stepping things up, it’s vital that Sophie retrieve Persephone’s memories and discover the location of the ritual to stop Zeus and Hades. So when Aphrodite strikes a deal that can unlock Sophie’s pre-mortal past, what choice does the teen goddess have but to accept?

The mission: stop media mogul Hermes from turning Bethany into a global mega-celebrity. The catch? Aphrodite partners Sophie and Kai to work together … and treat this suicide mission as a date. Which could work out for Sophie’s plan to force Kai to admit his feelings for her–if she doesn’t kill him first.

Add to that the fact that BFF Theo’s love life and other BFF Hannah’s actual life are in Sophie’s hands, and suddenly being a teenager—even a godlike one—seems a bit like … well, hell. Whatever happened to dinner and a movie?

The YA romantic comedy/Greek mythology fireworks continue to fly in My Date From Hell. Love meets comedy with a whole lot of sass in book two of this teen fantasy romance series. Breaking up is easy; dating is deadly.

That too?
I took a deep breath, folded my fingers over my palms and looked slightly to the
left of her in case I accidentally started blasting. Didn’t want to go down in history
as the girl who killed the Goddess of Love.

“Nope. It’s
just desire,” I said with faked calm. “Kai is so resistant to the idea of being
in love with me that your arrows don’t work. Besides which, when he actually does
fall so hard for me that he doesn’t know which way is up, I want him to know he
chose that of his own free will. That he chose me.” I threw him a sweet smile.

“Chose you?”
Kai got this look of “have we had this conversation before?” on his face. My smile
got tight.

Aphrodite
scooped up a saclike pink purse laying on the ground. She rooted around in
it. “Desire is part of romantic love, silly,” she said to me.

She pulled
out a handful of bullets and dumped them in Festos’ hurriedly outstretched hands
before turning back to Kai. She gestured with the still-open chambered revolver
toward him. “Your body knows what’s what. Stop fighting it.”

Kai glowered
at her.

She laughed
it off, reloading. “And you,” Aphrodite said to me, as she plucked more bullets
from Festos’ hand to load into the chamber. “Yer just as bad with your own issues.”

She couldn’t
know about my insecurities around Persephone could she? Aphrodite narrowed her eyes
at me.

I gulped.

Aphrodite
shot me a look of disgust and popped the final bullets into the chambers. She gestured
at each of us in turn with one pink, sparkly manicured finger. “I’m gonna start
gettin’ real mad about how youse is all dealin’ with love.”

“There’s
a whole bunch of drags around here where love is concerned,” Festos agreed.

“Thanks
so much for inviting him along,” Theo said to me.

I grimaced
an apology at Theo, then shot back at Festos, “Seems there’s a whole bunch of dogs
here, too.” I looked between him and Kai.

Kai snaked
his arm around my waist before pressing his fingertips into my hip. “Never wanted
to before. Sophie’s the exception.”

“The euphemistic
exception?” Festos asked. “Shut up,” Kai and I fired at him in tandem.

Festos took
it in stride, waggling his eyebrows cheerfully at Theo who pretended to look disapproving
but totally wasn’t. Even Hannah didn’t bother to hide her smile.

“Only thing
is,” I told Aphrodite, “I have to be back at school by Sunday morning. I have a
meeting I can’t miss. So I’ll have to get this thing with Jack done quickly to have
time for the date.”

“Going together
to find Hermes is the date.” Aphrodite looked at me like I was an idiot.
“You two need as much together time as possible.”

No way.
I needed all my wits about me to handle Kai. Something that couldn’t happen if I
had to track down Hermes at the same time. I tried a new tactic. “A date involves
dinner and a movie. Something romantic. Finding Hermes hardly counts.”

She pinned
me in her gaze. “Had so miny of them, Miz Expert? All a date is, is two people spendin’
time to deepen their attraction.”

“Or kill
it,” Hannah piped up.

Aphrodite
scrunched up her nose. “Huh?”

“There are
far more first dates than second,” Hannah explained. “Which means that after spending
time, those people realized they were not a match.”

“What she
said,” I seconded.

Aphrodite
narrowed her eyes at Hannah. “I don’t get ya. You talk like that but you’re so brim
up with love.”

“I’m a confounding
enigma,” Hannah replied cheerfully.

Aphrodite
threw her hands up. “Enough’a this nonsense. You’ll go together to find Hermes.
And you’ll be date-like doin’ it.”

That sounded
like a threat.

“Almost
like you planned it that way,” I said to Kai.

His smile
grew wider as he gave my waist a squeeze. “Told you I get what I want. Feel
free to let that sink in.”

22 November 2013

A sweet, mysterious teen romance with a refreshing fantasy twist. California teen Sadie James thinks her life couldn't get any better. She has great friends, an energetic mother she adores, and the beach practically in her own backyard. But her carefree life is turned upside down when she's rescued by a mysterious and strangely familiar boy who won't even tell her his name. Each time the boy appears, Sadie's unexplainable attraction to him deepens along with her need to unravel his secrets. The boy is there to protect her, but as wonderful and exciting as it might be to have an irresistible boy with crystal green eyes protecting her every move, every minute of the day...why does Sadie need one? As Sadie finds answers, she realizes her life isn't as perfect as she thought. Not only is she caught in a world of dangerous secret agents she never knew existed, but it turns out her true identity may be the greatest secret of all.

I moved near him and his hand guided me in front of the bench, but I turned to face him instead of sitting down. He immediately shifted back, pulling slightly away. I wasn’t sure if it was the bump on my head suddenly clouding my thoughts, or the romance of being swept away and rescued by a gorgeous, mysterious boy, or this little ache in my heart of forgotten memories and dreams, but something deep inside me drew me towards him.

I wanted to reach out and hold him, but I held the feelings back, unsure if I should act on them. Instead, I stood there unmoving, still gazing up at him. He was tall compared to most high school boys I knew. I searched his face for any sign of reciprocation and moved closer. This time he didn’t move away.

“Thank you again,” I said softly, looking up at him through my lashes.

There was a long, heavy pause as I waited breathlessly for his response. His glowing eyes met mine, and their radiance hypnotized me. I could see nothing else.

Then I felt it again, the unexplainable connection between us. Time slowed around us like a force field pulling us together. I had no desire to resist it; I let the feelings draw me in, and I inched forward, wishing for his lips on mine. His hand lifted gently to my waist, sending a thrill through me in every direction. Never before had I felt the desire to kiss someone so fervently, the divine first kiss I had always dreamed of.

There was no trace of resistance left on his face. He leaned into me and my heart raced. Our faces grew slowly together as I looked from his dazzling eyes to his inviting lips.

CHRISTIE
ANDERSON grew up in Southern California and goes back to visit every year. She
is a graduate of Brigham Young University and recently moved to Colorado with
her husband. Visit her web site at www.christieanderson.org

20 November 2013

Sneaking out at night, driving without a license, and falling for a guy weren’t things fifteen-year-old Jeni expected to do while visiting Lake Itasca, Minnesota. Then she meets Ice, the local medicine man's apprentice. Suddenly, her simple family gathering becomes an exciting – and terrifying – week of self-discovery. At first Jeni doesn't believe Ice's claim that she can touch the spirit world and has somehow released a mythical underwater monster. However, she's forced to reconsider when a teen swears a monster killed his father while fishing on the lake. Just as she comes to accept truth, Jeni finds she is the only one who can imprison the monster, making her the creature's next target. She'll need immense faith in her newfound ability to put herself in harm's way and face down the monster. And even if she succeeds in delivering the local population – and Ice – from the creature's wrath, there is no guarantee Jeni will escape with her own life.

The
old cellar she'd fallen into was maybe eight foot square. Jeni trained her
light on a tunnel dug into a side wall. It looked as though it had caved in.
The site provided a reason for the smell of fresh dirt and confirmed what she’d
determined earlier - someone had been here recently. She shuddered.

A
shovel, tarp, and rope lay near the tunnel as well as a few empty plastic
bottles and food wrappers. An old stove or furnace occupied the far
wall. In the corner nearby lay the cloth that got her into this predicament in
the first place.

The
statue had better be in it.

Convinced
she was going to be okay, Jeni rose shakily to her feet, testing her range of
movement. She knew she’d feel thistomorrow. Crouching down, she covered the
cloth with her hand and closed her fist. She groaned out loud.

Nothing.
It was empty.

She
made a quick survey of the rest of the area, hesitantly checking behind the
furnace and under the tarp; kicking around in a mound of dirt in case the
statue was buried.

Mission failed.

Time
to get out of here.

Jeni
clenched her light in her teeth and reached up to the opening. She grasped the
ledge and attempted to haul herself up. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. It
might have been possible when she was ten and could make it all the way across
the monkey bars, but not today.

Relief
that she’d survived the fall had overcome her other fears momentarily, but they
returned quickly along with the edge of hysteria.

Jeni
approached the furnace and gave it a shove with both hands. It didn’t budge.

She
couldn’t get out.

Now
she started to freak out.

She
frantically flashed her light around. The only other idea she had was to pile
dirt under the opening. Just enough to make her tall enough to climb
out. She grabbed the shovel and went to work. The scraping sounds
were almost comforting in the muffled stillness of the cellar.

Jeni
froze with a load of dirt on the end of the shovel. She thought she heard
something.

The
rustle of leaves.

Animal?

Hungry
animal?

Psychopathic
serial killer?

Dirt
rained off the end of the shovel and she noticed her arms were shaking.

As
the sound grew closer, Jeni became convinced it was a person walking. Her heart
fluttered crazily because she knew who it was.

It
was not a kind stranger who happened to be walking through the woods in the
middle of the night and would rescue her.

The
swishing of leaves picked up pace. And grew nearer.

It
was the statue-stealing, tunnel-digging, cellar occupant, and Jeni had to
assume the person would not be happy to see her here.

___________________________________________________________

About the Author

After years in the
corporate world, Barbara found herself with a second chance to decide what she
wanted to be when she grew up. Her
lifetime love of books and the written word returned one answer: writer. Drawing from her experience with technical
writing, she began by writing non-fiction magazine pieces and achieved both
regional and national publication. Her
success encouraged her to complete a novel.
She learned much from her first manuscript, critiques, books, contests,
and blogs. In 2012, her novel Thunderstone, was a quarterfinalist in
the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest and won a critique by Publisher's
Weekly. A few months later, she was
offered publication by Scribe Publishing Company.

Barbara has a few other
novels in the works, including a Thunderstone
sequel. If she's not reading or writing, Barbara likes to walk, garden, and
sew. She works in a library and lives in
Royal Oak, Michigan with her husband, daughter, and their cat – who often acts
like a dog.

15 November 2013

Who Saw the Deep by Christine Klocek-Lim
148 pages; Published November 8, 2013 by Evernight Publishing

When Noah moves back home after grad school, he doesn’t expect a simple handyman job to turn deadly. Amelia seems like a sweet old lady with a run-down house, but appearances can be deceptive. When an alien ship lands in her woods, Noah discovers that everything he believed about Earth and human civilization is wrong.
Amelia already gave her heart to one man—does she really want to let another one inside? Even though Noah is everything she ever wanted, can she really trust him? He seems like a good person, but her family’s genetic legacy is more important than romance.
When all their secrets are laid bare, Noah and Amelia discover that the survival of their species may be more dependent on love than either could have imagined. Civilization endures because of anonymous acts executed by ordinary individuals. And love, especially in the face of betrayal, is worth everything.

“Noah, hold up.”
He ignored her. She dug her heels into the ground and hung on. He stopped, reluctantly turning. She looked at his face, so dear. The rain had matted down his hair, the brown strands sticking to his cheeks. She reached up, picking apart some of them, letting her fingers linger over his eyelids. She’d liked him almost from the first moment he’d come to her house, hands shoved into his jeans, face tired. She let her fingers fall down to his lips and his expression softened.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said gently. She shook her head, drew him closer. He came willingly and she dug her nose into his chest as they clung to each other. When she lifted her face, he kissed her roughly, as if afraid she wasn’t real. She hung onto him, kissing back untilthe chill from the rain disappeared and all she could think about was the heat between them. He groaned, kissing down her jaw, hands shaking.
“I’m not dead,” she said.
He hugged her tighter, trembling. “Your skin was all black. God.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Um, ewww.”
He choked out a laugh. “Yeah, it was certainly gross. I waited for you to disintegrate, but you never did. I grabbed you and the house collapsed around us as I ran. I didn’t know what to do.” He pulled back. Amelia couldn’t tell if he was crying—the rain soaked them both.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you about me.” She sighed. “I didn’t know if I should tell you.”
“Leah doesn’t believe you, does she?” he asked, voice soft.
A pang of terror raced through her as she thought about facing her daughter again.
“No. I tried to explain it to her but she thinks I’m crazy. It’s not like I could demonstrate.” She turned away, began walking down the trail again. “I mean, how do you explain this to your daughter?” She waved at herself.
Noah slung his arm around her shoulders. “What happens if you kill yourself?”
From the light tone of his voice, Amelia knew he had no idea. “I would die for real,” she said, flatly.
He stopped, face drawn. “Okay, I could see how that would be bad.”
She snorted. “Why do you think there aren’t more of us running around? The women in my family are immortal. We live and die and then come back to life. Like pushing a reset button. One of us could conceivably do this forever.”
Noah shuddered, clearly thinking of the larger picture.
“Exactly. And yes, before you ask, some of us tried. My mother told me stories about a few of our ancestors who went insane after centuries of rebirth. She mentioned one who forced a slave to kill her every year so she never aged.” Amelia’s step faltered.
“So how come there aren’t more of you?” Noah asked.
“We have two weaknesses: we can kill ourselves and we can kill each other.”
“But that means—” he broke off, his voice cracking.
“Yeah. We eat our own.”

Christine Klocek-Lim spends most of her time daydreaming—which isn't much different from what she did as a girl in northeast Pennsylvania, as a college student in Pittsburgh, as a twenty-something technical writer in New York City, and as a young mother in suburban New Jersey. For the past decade or so she's been dream-surfing in the Lehigh Valley of Pennsylvania.
She’s published one young adult novel, Disintegrate, and is pleased to be publishing her first sci-fi romance, Who Saw the Deep, an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award semi-finalist.
She received the 2009 Ellen La Forge Memorial Prize in poetry. She has four chapbooks: Ballroom - a love story, Cloud Studies - a sonnet sequence, How to photograph the heart, and The book of small treasures.

Candy McCrae has everything she could ever want, and she’s about to marry the one man she’s always loved. He has money, he’s powerful, he’s drop-dead gorgeous, and he has a very close, attentive family with babies, nieces, and nephews running everywhere. For the first time, Candy has someone making decisions for her. So why is she so nervous?

Candy is the one woman Neil has always wanted, a woman who doesn’t care about flash and glitter and status, and he can’t get her to the altar fast enough. He has plans for his bride-to-be. He wants a family, lots of children, and for her to be a part of his world, with all its money, power, and million-dollar deals. He’ll look after her so she’ll never have to struggle again, and he’s planned and organized everything.

She goes along with it until the wedding, when she takes Neil’s hand to be his wife, and what she’s refused to share will change their lives forever.…

2012 was an amazing year in the publishing world for me, and it started with The Forgotten Child, which landed on the Amazon bestseller list for western romance and romance series. 2013 has seen me posted in the top 100 authors on Amazon for romantic suspense, mystery/thrillers, and police procedurals.

Where did it all begin? In 2008, I published my first novel, The Captain’s Lady, a contemporary military romance, through The Wild Rose Press. I’ve since received the rights back from my publisher, and I rewrote the book and republished it with a brand new title, Saved.

I write edgy romantic suspense (Walk the Right Road Series), western romance (Finding Love ~ The Outsider Series), and young adult mystery, and I warn my readers to expect the unexpected. I’m a mother of three children and we live on a small island in the Pacific Northwest. I encourage you to contact me by email; I do answer every email I receive.

Stay tuned. There is more to come from the Walk the Right Road Series and Finding Love ~ The Outsider Series, as well as a brand new western romance series coming later this fall, The One.

And to my readers and all of you who have shared my stories with your family and friends, a big, heartfelt thank-you.

13 November 2013

The Art of Letting Go by Anna Bloom
New Adult Contemporary Romance
393 pages; Published September 25th, 2013

One year. One woman. One Diary. One question: can you ever stop history from repeating itself and if you could what would you do to stop it?

When Lilah McCannon realises at the age of twenty-five that history is going to repeat itself and she is going to become her mother—bored, drunk and wearing a twinset—there is only one thing to do: take drastic action.

Turning her back on her old life, Lilah’s plan is to enrol at university, get a degree and prove she is a grown-up.

As plans go, it is a good one. There are rules to follow: no alcohol, no cigarettes, no boys and no going home. But when Lilah meets the lead singer of a local band and finds herself unexpectedly falling in love, she realises her rules are not going to be the only things hard to keep.

With the academic year slipping by too quickly, Lilah faces a barrage of new challenges: will she ever make it up the Library stairs without having a heart attack? Can she handle a day on campus without drinking vodka? Will she ever manage to read a history book without falling asleep? And most importantly, can she become the grown-up that she desperately wants to be.

With her head and her heart pulling her in different directions can Lilah learn the hardest lesson that her first year of university has to teach her: The Art of Letting Go?

Water would
be very good right now, but water means keeping my eyes open and using my legs,
and I know that is going to hurt even more. Too much too cope with.

My mouth
feels like the Sahara with no oasis in sight. I would do anything for an Oasis
right now, or an Evian. Who am I kidding? I would do anything for tap water
right now.

I wonder if
I can crawl myself to the bathroom and just lay in the bath with my mouth
positioned under the tap for an hour.

I wonder if
the other girls got home okay?

I cannot for
the life of me remember anything. I have just woken up in my bed. I am just
thankful that it is my bed.

Wait a
minute. How did I even get home?

I have no
recollection of the walk across campus or the however many flights of stairs it
is to the dorm, and I most certainly do not remember entering my room and
getting into bed.

Shit.

I am
definitely in my room, so that is good. My unpacked boxes are still scattered
around and I can see remnants of last night’s whirlwind dress-up scattered
where I left them.

Wish I had
not bothered.

I have just
peeked under the duvet. I am also dressed, which I am pleased about,
considering.

As slowly as
I can manage without causing my brain to bleed or eyeballs to fall out, I sit
up. I need to get out of the tangle of silk dress and cotton sheets, which are
cutting off the blood supply to my legs.

Honest to
god, I think my brain may be about to explode. There is a searing pain above my
right eye, and a steady banging located in the back of my skull. It may be my
brain attempting an escape.

Okay. That’s
strange. There are three bottles of water lined up in a row next to my neatly
placed shoes. Where the hell did they come from? Meredith, perhaps?

Nope. It's
no good. I need to lie down again. I sat up way too soon.

The
Fresher’s Ball

7.00 a.m.

OH, FUCK! Oh
no, no, no, no, no.

I can’t
believe it! I have woken up and can now remember the Fresher’s Ball, in all its
high-definition 3D glory.

This is all
I can remember of how I broke every single one of my Uni rules. I am going to
write it down and then I am going to forget about it until the day I die, which
may very well be later today.

The
Fresher’s Ball completely rocks, but this may be because I break the ‘No
Drinking’ rule by consuming:

Half a
bottle of champagne

Three
tequila shots

Three
bottles of beer

Three
glasses of water (to keep a balance)

Two glasses
of wine

Note to
self: This amount of alcohol causes significant pain and memory misplacement.

Halfway
through the evening, the room is spinning in an alarming fashion and I am using
the wall as a support. I would like to move away from it and dance with my
roommates, but I am scared that: A. My legs will fall off, or B. I will be
sick. So instead I just stand and lean, sipping some more water.

The live
band is great, though unfortunately I have to look at them through one eye. If
I open both eyes, everything gets a bit blurry.

The lead
singer is damn hot: tall and slim with a shock of dark hair and flashing blue
eyes that I can see all the way over from my safety spot against the wall.

Ha ha! If I
open both eyes there are two of him!

One eye, one
singer. Two eyes, two singers. One eye, one singer. Two eyes, two singers.

I think he
may be glancing in my direction, but cannot be sure. Maybe he is just working
out if he needs to get someone to call an ambulance for me.

Oh no! I
probably look like I am winking at him. I am such an idiot!

I decide to
head back to the bar and get another bottle of water. Without a backwards
glance at the stage—let’s be honest
I am in no condition to be glancing anywhere—I make my way to the bar. Froebel
college is an old mansion house made up of a rabbit warren of rooms that I
stumble my way through until I find where they have hidden the bar. Once there,
I attempt to communicate with the barman for a bottle of overpriced water.

Sipping my
drink, I turn from the bar, but someone is blocking my path back to the exit. I
look up and see a pair of blue eyes twinkling down at me.

Ah, pretty,
blue sparkly eyes like the sky at midday. I appear to be completely at a loss
for words. Again.

A dark head
lowers to examine me closer.

“Ben,” he
introduces, holding his hand out to me, his blue eyes crinkling.

On closer
inspection, I see they are surrounded by the cutest freckles I have ever seen.

“Lilah,” I
respond, taking his hand. I don’t shake it, I just hold it.

That is so
not cool.

I hope I am
not still looking through just one eye. “You’re the singer guy, right?” At
least my tongue still works.

He flashes me a wicked smirk. “Singer guy,
I am,” he replies, his hand still holding mine.

I have no
urge to move away.

“You’re the
girl in the knock out white dress,” he adds.

I have
nothing to say to this, but he laughs all the same.

“Would you
like to go outside for some fresh air?” he asks, leaning forward slightly and
talking right into my ear. His warm breath sends shivers down my arm and
various other places.

“I should
find my friends,” I say. I don’t want to. I want to follow the blues outside,
but there is a teeny tiny part of my inebriated brain that knows this may be a
bad idea.

“Come on,
Lilah.” He tugs at my hand, and my willpower crumbles like a sandcastle in the
tide and I follow him without a second thought.

I Will Not
Talk to Boys . . .
Much

Hold on a
minute. It gets worse.

Outside, he
takes a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket. I cannot help
but focus on his hand sliding into the tight space of his dark blue jeans.

I am a dirty
pervert.

He offers me
one, and I automatically accept.

Well, that
is a pile of Crap!

I have
broken all four of my cardinal rules within twenty-four hours of starting Uni.

Well done,
Delilah! I offer
myself an imaginary clap on the back.

“I wasn’t
winking at you, by the way.” I assure him.

“What?”

“Um,
nothing.”

“So you here
as a guest or a student?” he asks, leaning in and lighting my ciggie for me.

“Student,” I
reply, attempting not to slur.

He lifts an
eyebrow at this.

“Yes, I know
I am old!” I retort. I should just walk away but my legs are not responding to
any command my brain makes. Apart from the one that instructs me to stand there
like a dick.

“Hardly.”
The blues hold mine.

“Twenty-five
is pretty old compared to all the spring chickens in there.” I motion my head
to the hall behind me full of dancing teenagers.

Motioning of
head is not such a great idea. My vision is about 5 seconds behind.

“I’m
twenty-five,” blue-eyed Ben informs me.

“Oh.”

“So what are
you studying?”

He is
standing really close, very close indeed. I seem to be staring at his lips as
he speaks, they are all I can focus on. Everything else is blurred or doubled.

I take a
long drag of my cigarette.

“History,” I
tell him, waiting for the laugh. None comes. “So, have you been with the band
long?”

“Ten years.”

“Wow! That’s
a long time.” It really is.

“Yeah, I
guess.” He throws his cigarette away and I follow suit. He still does not move
away from me. This guy obviously does not follow the rules of etiquette
regarding personal space.

“You don’t recognise me, do you?”

Of all the
questions I am expecting, this one is not it. “No. Should I?”

“I played at
a Christmas party last year. You were there.”

I stare at
the blues as he speaks; they are a little mesmerising. Let’s just hope I have my
mouth closed.

I remember
the band now, and I vaguely remember him. Well, not him exactly, but something
about the colour blue. John had been a complete arsehole that evening, not
leaving me alone for a minute. It had been suffocating and in the end we had
left early. The evening was so bad I have forced myself to never think about it
again.

“Sorry,” I
offer. I kind of am.

“I think I
prefer the white dress to the red.”

What?! He
can remember the dress I was wearing nine months ago! I am about to say something
. . . anything . . .

Then he is
kissing me: his mouth warm and firm on mine.

WHAT ON
EARTH AM I DOING?

It should be
strange, but it is not as strange as you’d think. I automatically lean in and
slide my hands into his black hair, pulling him down closer. His hand grazes
down my back and over my left butt cheek. I am not complaining though. Nope,
no complaints here. None at all.

Just like
that my knees start to go. His arms slide around me holding me up and I think
he may be chuckling, but I am not sure. It is hard to hear anything above the
roaring in my ears.

This is the
point I realise I am going to be sick all over a complete stranger I have just
snogged.

“I think I
should help you home,” he says into my ear.

“What? No
way! If you think I am going to let you take me home so I will have sex with
you, you’re sorely mistaken! I am not some gir—” My words are cut off by his
lips. I try to protest but soon give up. It is not the most convincing protest
I have ever made. I have protested more over cold toast.

“I am not
taking you home so I can take advantage of you,” he says after finally pulling
away so I can gasp a breath.

“You are
really rather drunk and I think you should let me help you home,” he continues,
a smile playing on his lips. He is probably right.

I can barely
stand up, though I am not sure if that is through lack of oxygen whilst kissing
or from too much booze.

“Besides,”
he says with a twinkle of blues, “when I do have sex with you, I would
rather you were a little more sober.”

I start to
protest again but his arms lift me up and throw me over his shoulder in a very
unflattering fireman lift.

“Where do
you live, Lilah?” he asks.

He is never
going to know, so I tell him, just so he has to admit he
does not have a clue.

To my
immense surprise he just starts striding off across campus.

I try to
think of ways to get down, but in the end just give up and stare at his rather
tidy arse as my eyesight starts to go black.

This is all
I remember.

So kill me
now.

I can’t
believe that I got drunk enough to snog a stranger, even a hot one. What a
complete bloody idiot. I may never, ever leave this room again. Ever.

I am going
back to sleep. Hopefully when I wake up I will realise that this has all been a
hideous nightmare.

Anna Bloom is a contemporary romance writer who writes about life as it happens. Combining a busy schedule of looking after two small children whilst working in a local school and completing The Uni Files series she also spends a lot of time imagining kissing hot guys – all in the name of her art.

About Me:

Hey, everyone! I'm Shanise your host and friend of this here lovely blog! I'm a 27 yr old book & music addict. I love chatting and meeting new friends! I'm currently learning 한굴이 and Español. Obsessing over fitness & health. And finding my way in this world...!Any questions; email, tweet , or comment!♥